


Vera Arte

by apogrcpha



Category: Hannibal (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Historical, Alternate Universe - Renaissance, Fluff and Angst, Light Angst, M/M, Other Additional Tags to Be Added
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-11-26
Updated: 2018-03-03
Packaged: 2019-02-07 06:22:24
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 5,439
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12835143
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/apogrcpha/pseuds/apogrcpha
Summary: Hannibal Lecter is the epitome of a Renaissance man, a painter, a philosopher, a musician, a well-read man, all in all the definition of sophistication.Will Graham couldn't quite care less about all that happened in the world around him, he found some solace in a steady job in an art shop whilst the world around him seemed to change in a rapid fashion he can't quite follow.Alone in the shop, keys left to him for a month, Hannibal decides to make his monthly visit to the recent hit in Florence.





	1. Chapter 1

Will Graham had a simple life, despite the booming period that Firenze was in he himself didn’t notice it too much, he didn’t belong to the men who were affected by that, didn’t belong to the scholars who started to discover more and more about the world they shared. Will? Will fixed the odd gondola that was still present in the city, that business was slowly dying though. Nonetheless he found refuge in an art shop, selling paintings, a job that had been offered by one of his friends. His understanding of paintings was rather limited, he had no reason to have a great knowledge about them, the work was simple though, simple labour without any straints on his body, an easy job with surprisingly well-pay depending on the patrons who chose to shop. 

Today was another day as the others, the sun had dawned on the city and so had he. A small apartment was included in his few belongings, halfway across the city, as far from the centre as he possibly could be, his legs ached as they were yet to grow accustomed to the distance from his daily work. The silence, he had chosen this apartment for that, and it was very much worth the walk. He had always been a man in need of his peace and quiet, otherwise his mind would be buzzing, the people around him merging into one, slowly seeping into his mind, becoming part of him.

There was no uniform for his work, Brian had simple standards of merely being presentable as to not arouse any customers in any form or way, something that was easy enough for Will to do so, his clothes tended to be good enough, little wrinkles and with a ribbon his hair would be less wild, nonetheless a curly mess but well enough to pass for the folks buying paintings.

Despite the early hour he had been walking a short few minutes and the streets were crowded with all sorts of people, ranging from the poorest of the poor to the richest of the rich, the stark contrast between everyone stood out most, nonetheless all were equally complex being Will oddly understood, a skill he never knew what to do with. It had been a delight when people were challenging, he understood them but understanding went further than he often thought, could think like them, pluck the words from their mouths and leave them gawking as he confidently strode forward, the corner of his mouth turned at the thought.

Impressive wouldn’t be a word used to describe him, especially not when talking about his appearance. Boyish, it had been called more than once. Unruly curls and a goofy smile, it seemed to never grow out of him despite the age that was slowly starting to grow on him, a stubble that was well-kempt for it not to grow too far out of control yet still remain present to add a few years to his young features. 

The store was yet to be opened as the peak of customers would slowly reach, the lock was open as the new key turned and Will stepped in, his fingers trailing across the scrawl that was left on a piece of paper, ink smeared across his thumb. 

It was left to him, at least for this month, all of it. Business had been booming, he knew that much, customers were drowning in every single day and Brian had opted for some well-protected stalls in the market as well, selling some of the smaller pieces that were there but now he was expanding, another city to take his chances and left Will, with his very limited knowledge, in charge. Paintings that were to be sold would be delivered every once in awhile, their stock had been dwindling faster than Brian could make investments 

A daunting feat for sure, even the shop he worked before wasn’t near to his own, something on a bigger scale than the art-shop, there Will was even more distanced from the people themselves, he received tasks and did them with a surprising efficiency and constant quality. Back then had been able to run the business, had it ever been needed which quite clearly was far from the case, yet now he felt a surge of anxiety, whispering all he lacked to do this the right way. It had been under control, his pay had been steady and growing, his life under a control he had longed for but never quite had and all of it seemed to be slipping away from him now, seeping into an abyss. 

With a second key, the shop had opened. The sun grew higher, Will had taken notice of the people who were already outside of the shop, lingering about the streets surrounding the shop. There was a deep relief when he wasn’t the only one in the shop anymore, despite having been granted temporary ownership he would’ve completely dissolved weren’t it for other employees who did have a genuine passion or understanding about the art that they were selling.

As the afternoon rolled around it was becoming less populated, there wasn’t a need to keep the door at a constant open anymore with the people leaving yet a greater amount coming inside each and every single time, most of the collection had been sold, some pieces ending up in a bidding war between locals who were completely captivated by the pieces and refused to give it up to anyone else. Will let out a small sigh of relief as the last person left, heading to the back as he watched the other two employees leave after a quick goodbye. 

The door was opened, a sound that for once was clear because of the absence of chatter, Will his attention moved from the golden coins to whomever had entered the shop. The customer stood out from the rest of the crowd that had come before, a strong confidence radiated from him, a sense of superiority even. His doublet was made of a rich black and silver cotton velvet brocade, a shirt underneath made of a royal black in velvet, an even deeper shade. Not was it the strong masculinity radiating, rather he stood out aesthetically, his sand blonde hair a pale contrast against both his clothes and the normal colours generally belonging to the populus.

“Hello. I don’t think we’ve had the pleasure of meeting before.” The customer said, his accent an even more stark contrast to what he was accustomed to, Will stood dazed, his brain turning completely blank for a moment. Quickly he composed himself again, shaking the man’s hand. “Hannibal Lecter.”

“Will Graham.” He said. “You’ve arrived at quite a late hour, most of the pieces have been sold already.” The supply that was bought was stored separately, Will knew that much, and delivered every single Thursday, Brian suggested it as a way to keep from burglary becoming a regular thing with more thieves flooding the streets, a mere lock wasn’t enough any more. 

“I’m aware.” Hannibal merely said, along with the superiority clouding him, Will was positive this was the most calm man he had met in his life, as though he wasn’t even present in the ever changing world around them. Something that Will would prefer to whatever odd mind-reading ability he seemed to posses, to remain calm in a world that was fleeting from his grasps with all the new technologies arising, old thoughts banished or rebranded, findings from the ancient world and so much more that was becoming their new reality. “I prefer the quiet of this hour, not only that but limitations make us seek and make the most of whatever situation we might find ourselves in.”

A philosophy that Will could find himself following, limitations did make us aim to do the best we can, an even stronger desire to impress. Hannibal was certainly an enchanting man, Will felt it on himself and didn’t doubt that would be any different with anyone else, the sophistication emerging from his words and appearances, Will had an odd feeling it was completely genuine, something that, to him, had been clear since the man set foot in the store. 

“Feel free to take your time.” Was the final reply coming from Will as he decided to return to counting the coins, he was very convinced the man could choose for himself, far likely his knowledge was ten times more than Will’s would ever be, even if he chose to invest time into it. Somethings, he found, were destined more for others than him, art was included among the many traits that had now become the new popular, surrounding him. 

Flipping between his fingers, the scent of metal filling his nostrils and lingering on his fingertips as he tucked all of them safely away, despite that there had always been placed an odd amount of trust in him despite his complete lack of knowledge on the subject, he had little idea of what to do with the coins and if there was some sort of safe to store them in, he didn’t assume so since he was yet to stumble upon such a thing, even though logic urged him to keep looking he chose an easier way, there was no reason for anyone to assume he took the money and kept it within the confines of his small apartment, from the impression most customers thought one of his colleagues was in charge now, their knowledge by passing his to the extreme.

“What would your opinion be on this?” Will didn’t notice the voice for a few seconds before turning, realising that his opinion was asked, something that he didn’t expect nor had been done earlier, most of his time was merely working out payments as he found another odd skill in numbers but advice was a rarity and he felt extremely ill equipped to give it, intimidated even.

“I’m not exactly the best person for that,” He admitted somewhat sheepishly, a sense of shame arising. “I can offer my own insight, although how valuable that is should be judged very subjectively.” Nonetheless Will moved over, staring at the rather bleak piece. Flesh tones a clear contrast to the background made of darker and softer hues, the image drawn to the center of the piece within the first few seconds. Will wasn’t a man of art, but he enjoyed seeing it even if he wouldn’t be one to uncover the secrets hidden beneath the paint, he didn’t need to do that to enjoy it.

Contemplating, he turned over to Hannibal, the man eagerly waiting although his outwards appearance didn’t necessarily let it on, educated guesses Will called them. “It’s interesting, a stark contrast between foreground and background, the longer you stare at it the more they start to fade together despite of this because of the dark but soft hues,” A silence drew, Will wasn’t someone to analyse art. “I like it.” Something methodical to it.

Hannibal smiled, softening his look a little. “Just the thing I was thinking, though a bit more in detail.” His voice was calm, steady like still water and solid like rock, not a single thing able to break the steady tone. 

“The price?”

Will glanced over at the arrangement of letters that were left, a glance at the card that had been put next to the painting to reveal the name. “350 florins.” Whether the price was true to it’s value was something Will doubted, finding it far more interesting than most pieces that were still left at the end of the day, even though those proved to be in short supply, then again Brian had developed a skill to some extend, able to find rising talent and buy their first works rather cheaply, about to make at least thrice the amount he spent. 

Deft hands fished a handful of coins from the pouch and within mere seconds of having been handed the coins Will could clearly see it was more than required, by far. Customers could be generous, he had many experiences with rich folks spending far too much without a single care, a thing that still somewhat amazed Will.

“Keep it,” Hannibal said before Will could formulate his reply somewhere in the direction of ‘I can’t’. “Buy something  _ interesting  _ with it. Goodbye.”

Will watched the man leave, in his stead returned two men, tall, muscular and in general freakishly resembling giants, despite their big posture they handled the painting quite softly, leaving as quick as they came without a word, silence filled. The candle’s light grew dimmer as Will stared at the door, intrigued by the man but finding an odd sense of weariness coming with his thoughts, a mild paranoia seemed to always cloud his mind but it had grown rather strong in mere seconds.

With the last customer gone and night dominating the sky Will decides it best to leave, the key round jingled as he blew the last light out, relocking the door before heading home, a heavy weight at his side in the form of coins, an odd sensation he’d like to grow accustomed to.

  
  



	2. Chapter 2

Will bought a pet, why? He didn’t quite know himself. His childhood memories were what hr expected to be regular, nothing special had happened, an absent mother and a father doing his best to fulfil both jobs despite the many hours of work, his fondest memories were of their dog though.

A stray, a small pup they had called Cooper, Will’s memories were somewhat hazy, he didn’t know the breed any more but knew that when he was too young to work himself yet he spend all of his time with the dog, running around in empty fields, chasing him through the streets. The dog died though, a few years after they had taken Cooper in, how Will couldn’t recall, a boy of seven whose father was particularly vague about everything to keep from an even more devastating heartbreak than that of his mother.  

He hadn’t exactly bought a pet, rather he used most of the money to buy food, a nice soft carpet for Winston and a ring, a golden band decorated with a gemstone. Money had started to become in somewhat of an overflow, more than he needed seeing as he found little pleasure in women or wine, the odd drink was fine but he took little pleasure, not enough to willingly spend his coins. 

“You could really run this shop, partial ownership would suit you.” Will had been staring into space, the day was just starting, most people were yet to come and even then Mondays were never quite popular days, he enjoyed them, it wasn’t small breaks between the pinnacle amount of customers, it was a slow day, not a single shred of anxiety nor his mind overflowing with all that could be, all the voices of people with their whole own lives invading his own.

A soft chuckle left his lips, Beverly was one of the many regular customers who came but one of the few he found friendship with that extended past forced small talk as to be polite and make sure the customer would return. “It wouldn’t, it definitely wouldn’t.” The thought utterly terrified him, something daring he’d like but the financial fiasco more or less haunted any excitement he might get out of the idea. “If you haven’t taken notice, my knowledge is far from extensive.”

“Partial ownership, running the stories,” She said with a chuckle of her own. “I’m not saying you know every nook and cranny of painting, I’m saying you can,  _ if you want to,  _ be quite good at charming and are fine enough with numbers, I meant running stores, administration, leave taste and purchases to Brian. It’s not like he wouldn’t trust you enough.”

“Maybe.” His response ended up being, her arguments were sensible ones, maybe he didn’t want to see them himself, he found the novelty of his life now an odd comfort and anything that would change him too drastically didn’t appeal to him, yet to remain stuck where he was slowly started to feel like a hold on him, suffocating as he kept going about his days. A change he was desperate for but didn’t want to seek out himself, refused to admit he needed. “Still, it’s not up to me necessarily.”

“Brian would accept the offer, you and I both know he’s been rather stressed as of late.” Will knew, without a single doubt knew as he watched the man grow more irritated the longer he spend time in the company of more than one person, ill tempered and easily frustrated had become the norm. “Could take a little pressure off of him and would make you more money.”

“Not everything revolves around money.”

“These days it does, it always has and you’d be foolish to not admit it, you’re aware of it yourself too,” She was confident, bold with her words and no less fierce than any man, her opinions voiced whether accepted or not. “It’s not like you are accepting a hit, ripping a life from this world for coins, it’s helping a friend and benefiting without exploiting.”

“If you say so.” Will conceded.

“It’s friendly advice, trust me on this.” He always did, she was one of the few people he trusted wholly, they knew each other, not one's deepest secrets and desires but good enough to be able to help and offer kind advice, making sure they achieved the best and all they could.

“We’ll see.” Was all he could say anymore, moving on to whoever called him, Will had grown convinced over the months of seeing Beverly she had a very refined taste which couldn’t be fulfilled here as despite her frequent visits, he never saw her buy anything and slowly became convinced she merely came for the company of her friends.

The day passed with ease, nothing out of the ordinary but a few more customers than he had anticipated came, a good thing for obvious reasons, earning more money was never a bad thing. Even happier was when he chose to close early, there was a celebration many wanted to go to and he was aware that no customers would come, a feast would never be ignored. 

The sun was yet to set as he arrived in the apartment, Winston circling at his feet, barks of excitement with a lopsided goofy grin on his face as Will crouched to pet him. A smile playing on his lips as he did so, he had always had an affinity for dogs even if he refused to get one for as long as he could remember. It was a stubbornness, he knew that after a solemn vow he took when Cooper died, really it daunted him, taking care and being fully responsible of another life wasn’t something he took especially lightly. 

His eyes stared outside of the window, the sun steadily setting but enough daylight.

“C’mon boy.” Will said, slipping the leash on because training Winston hadn’t quite started yet, the dog was rather obedient, more so than he had expected but he was still far from confident, afraid he might run away in the chase of a squirrel or alike.The pair went outside, a slightly colder breeze washing over his shoulders as he walked with Winston at his side, heading to his destination.

The fields surrounding the city were still pleasantly unoccupied by the ever growing population, nature still blooming. Will smiled, letting Winston go after scouting for any other life which apparently was none. The dog ran faster than his feet likely were able to go and Will ended up stunned at his ability to remain on four feet as he watched from a distance. “I never thought you’d own a dog again.”

“Neither did I,” Will replied honestly. “I always appreciate people striking up a conversation unannounced.” A small smile played on his lips as he turned to Jack, a man he had first met when he was still young, despite the years that had been added he remained very much the same as the first time Will met t on just him.

“I know you do,” A smile very much alike his own appeared on Jack's face, lines clearly showing his ever growing age. ‘It’s good to see you more relaxed.”

Of course the conversation would turn, small talk was a rare thing for him to endure but sometimes he did prefer it. Jack was one of the few aware of his ability or curse, it depended very much on the day, and he had assisted Jack every once in awhile during his job, as Chief of Police he had first been rather unpopular, arriving from a foreign city albeit in the same country, it was still rarely valued. Steadily though, the people grew on him, a young man set on finding the truth with the occasional help. “Has there been something that hasn’t been able to attract my attention?”

“Not really, nothing solid.”

“Elaborate.” Will prompted, undeniably curious even though he ought not to be, aware of what it might result into.

“Part of a body, a leg. No one knows what they should do with it, a single body part, there’s little that we can do.” A single body part was certainly an odd thing, it meant precision, dedication although he knew it did depend on the cut, maybe it was hasty. He shook his head, along with the promise of the dog he promised not to do this again either, then again he had already broken one of his promises.

“And you assume that I do know what to do with a single leg.” He stated rather bluntly, he had some thoughts circling within his mind but it was speculation based on nothing, thoughts tossing around and he was confident that a complete police force was far more equipped than he was to deal with this issue. “I’m no magician or sorcerer.”

“I don’t claim you to be,” Jack quickly interjected. “I’ve seen you think, followed your  _ imagination,  _ it’s not magic, it’s logic your mind oddly comes up with but has saved a lot of people in this city.” Will watched the sun almost fall down, growing ever further away, a whistle left his lips, panting.

“There isn’t even a body, I told you I wouldn’t do this again.” 

“I know,” Jack said. “Just as you said about this lovely dog. I’m not asking you to offer your soul to some demon, I’m merely suggesting that you loan me some of your oddly magical  _ imagination _ , just this once.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> \- Quick Author's note, my historical accuracy may not be on point, I'm trying to do some of my research depending on the time I have to do it so I wouldn't accept everything I write as historically accurate, I am trying but can't make a promise that everything is true as it used to be. 
> 
> Beside that I hope you enjoyed this chapter, introducing some characters and just setting some solid ground down, next chapter's going to be a little different :)


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Just a quick thank you to the people who commented! I have read them and wanted to reply but my browser messed up so I'll be doing that a little later

Halls of the empty palazzo were haunted by the wind that passed through them, curtains blowing against the windows which proved to be the only sounds in the home, the sun ghostly shone through them, light reflected down onto the corridors with a golden glow. 

Rising with the sun had been a habit drilled into him, something he also chose to do voluntarily from a certain age, enjoying the pleasant sensation of the sun tickling his skin, warmth directly onto his skin to battle the chill of the early morning. A chill went through his body as he removed himself from the satin sheets.

This day was little different from mosts, there was work to be finished, paintings to be made and beside that it was leisure time, dedicated to whatever suited his needs for today, the thought of never leaving the palazzo interested him deeply, his whole day spent in his workshop. Work had slowly started to build to where his pace needed to be increased quite a bit, along with the many other things he wanted to do his schedule was filled to the brim, most seconds he didn’t spend were wasted.

His surge had come at a faster pace than he had anticipated, the new materials he used along with a style that was very alike that of Italian painters but nonetheless proved to also be a stark difference, enough for all the attention to turn to the new foreign face who took up residence in their dear beloved city.

Dressing was followed by a light breakfast, his body looming over his personal record of dates and the obligations that went along with them, he was surprised to see the word visitors among today as it wasn’t quite related to someone coming to buy. One of his first patrons was Garrett Hobbs, a man who came off as not being remotely interested in the recent technological advances that were being made yet still approached him, offering to buy a painting for quite a ridiculous sum which, with a crowd that had gathered, Hannibal quite blatantly refused, having a clear vision as to where it would end than. Art was meant for more than merely decoration, it was an exercise of the mind as much as reading was, to find the meaning behind a painting was a hard and delicate process and with enough riches to support himself he saw little reason to accept the ludicrous offer.

Although not meant as such, it only helped boost his popularity and after the incident the good man honestly said he was far from interested in the painting but did like to keep acquainted, something he could quite easily agree with, having a clear idea as to where mister Hobbs could go, with a little steering. It was his daughter who would pay the visit, a young girl held back by a father. 

The young girl was yet to b married despite her ever growing age, a dark yet innocent beauty surrounding her, she was shown an odd aptitude for a bow, something he had to be a little forceful about to be revealed but nonetheless she showed it, an arrow piercing the eye of a poor squirrel from a league or two away, a clean perfect shot, something he had discovered archers often found a hard thing to do. 

He liked her, not in a repulsive way but he was drawn to her aptitude and possibilities, all the places she was able to go were quite a few and her mind was moldable enough to be send ways her father wouldn’t, not only that but she was more open to it, welcomed it more and he was very willing to mold her seeing as she was happily accepting whatever boring fate stood on the safe end, of course he was confident she didn’t view it as such, but if she was perceptive enough she might. 

A soft knock echoed through the palazzo,his painting process was much of a sacred thing to him, it felt private, a part of himself well hidden for the public eye yet he always let Abigail watch, showing far more authenticity with her than with most people even though he was confident she didn’t quite see it, a shame but something she had to discover herself.

Warm air came inside as he opened the door, a carriage faintly in the distance with a personal guard standing a few steps back from Abigail herself, she did a small courtesy, delicate but deadly hands on her skirt, he smiled and stepped out of the doorway. The guard was only there to accompany her, somehow Garrett had an odd trust in Hannibal to leave her alone with him, not after having known him for some time but ever since he first proposed the thought of him watching her for some time. 

“How have your lessons been?” He started as the two of them headed upwards, climbing the wide stairs up to his atelier, there was little need for small talk about the weather, they knew each other well enough to avoid that, though it was polite, both showed a disliking to it and the other picked it up well enough not to do it anymore. Though to say the conversation they often started on was philosophical or deep would be quite the exaggeration. 

“Fine,” Came the short reply as he held the door open again and she stepped inside, taking a deep breath. “A bit tedious.” She finished as she pulled up one of the stools near the aisle he was working, he noticed her eyes scan around for any change only to find two paintings absent instead of any new ones having been added, a hint of disappointment became clear.

Despite her  _ limited  _ knowledge of art she had always been vastly interested in it whenever it involved him, a thing that made being across the city far more bearable than she thought it would be. Hannibal noticed the difference, oddly enough when at their home her eyes didn’t even accidentally cross over the paintings yet here they seemed to be all that was able to capture her attention, sometimes those appeared to be more interesting than him or their conversation.

“A bit you say.” He shortly commented, preparing his tools and paints. 

“More than a bit.”

“Which is exactly?” He asked.

“An extremely boring affair, one which isn’t matched by anything else I have done in all of my days.” She replied, exasperating the message by the usage of her hands, an odd smile found its way onto his lips as he continued onwards, his mind recollecting even the smallest details of the lady he was to paint, the silk fabric of her dress, how thin it appeared when the most delicate of breeze passed them, her hands frantically on her skirt as she was amused, surprised and fearful for what might become, seeing as there would be no sessions for this painting, no hours of sitting idly in the same position. 

Despite that the session had taken them a small hour, not even a fraction of the day, weeks ago yet the memory was ever as fresh, as clear as a moment from some seconds ago, every emotion, how everything felt, the smell of the garden they were near, the distance from the city, the smallest details printed clearly in his mind. 

“You’re still yet to tell me how you remember things so clearly.” Abigail commented after some time had passed, a clear bust was painted, details from shoulders to her hair finished and the outline of the body there, some flat colours down on the canvas. 

“I’ve never said I would, have I?” More of a statement rather than a question he asked.

“Implied would be the correct term.”

“You’re reading into our conversations too much then.”

An unladylike snort left her, arms crossed. “As if that isn’t a habit of yours, you have said so yourself in one of our conversations.” It was true, to say she needed a little steering was rather politely of him, her father could be rather lacking in his parenting skills and so was her mother, a true lady but that made her far from a good parent, although his standards could lie rather highly.

“I did, interpretation is highly subjective, something you must be careful with, it’s always your own mind making an assumption which are likely to be wrong.” He had told her that as well, reading into conversations or dialogue wasn’t a bad thing, a good mental exercise of recognising subtle hints and patterns in speech of people yet doing so untrained or with people you didn’t know well could lead to a lot of wrong assumptions, a growing confidence in a skill you don’t possess. 

“Why won’t you just tell me?” She said, growing ever impolite.

“Patience is a virtue. I need to focus.” The single prompt was enough for her to remain silent or to avoid the subject of his almost perfect memory, leaving a peaceful and oddly comfortable silence between the two of them.


	4. author's note

Hi there

 

So for everyone who's read this story I just want to say a quick thank you. I've been a little busy working on other things, mostly school which has also sucked all life out of my body, but anyway forget that. I've been busy but I've made a bit of a planning for this story so I do hope to return to it soon, somewhere between 3/3 and 10/3 so I just wanted to say that, if everything works out and I suddenly don't have ten tests out of nowhere, I'll be updating this story again soon.

 

Again, thank you to everyone who's read this and enjoyed this. I love writing it which is why I will return to it, it just might take a little time before I do so.

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you for reading, so some notes about this story/chapter  
> \- I'm making this up as I go, I have a general idea of where I want the story to go but most of it is made up  
> \- It's NOT beta read, I'm positing these as I finish them ( sort of ) so there will probably be some stupid errors in them  
> \- I appreciate CONSTRUCTIVE criticism  
> \- I'm going to try and keep this updated around every one or two weeks, i'm busy so I can't promise anything but I'm trying to ease back into a writing schedule


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